


Obsolete

by joufancyhuh



Series: Inertia [1]
Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Gen, exploring Julius Moreau's comment, if there is no amelia content i will simply create it, want some hostile yet unknown pinning?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: The Captain tells Amelia Kim the rumor she heard.
Relationships: Female Captain & Amelia Kim, The Captain & Amelia Kim
Series: Inertia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805020
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	Obsolete

**Author's Note:**

> Why can I not tell Amelia Kim that Julius Moreau told me she's being replaced by a mech? Why? Rude. Leave your capitalist overlords and fly away with me, my love. 
> 
> I'm doing NaNo a bit differently. 1000 words a day, no set wip. Just trying to clean up some stuff. Glad I can finally get this out there.

“So I heard an interesting rumor today.” 

The soiled and overused rag scrunched tight in one hand, Amelia spared a glance as she wiped down the bar. Her eyes met that of the Stranger’s rare shade of violet, a color so vivid it had to be a mod. The Stranger wore an odd expression, brow furrowed and lips tightly pinched together as those eyes scanned Amelia’s face. They unnerved her, those eyes -- always assessing, glinting with secret knowledge -- foreign. People down in Edgewater didn’t mod or tote so many weapons around so openly. 

Edgewater being the size it was, and the Stranger being an outlier to the regular programming of its citizens’ daily lives, most folk made it a good habit to steer clear when they spotted her coming. Unfortunately, Amelia couldn’t participate in such a practice when the Stranger made it her own habit to seek out the Cantina (and possibly Amelia herself) a couple times a day since her arrival to the Vale. Whoever she was, wherever she came from, it probably wasn’t Terra 2 -- unless she arrived from Byzantium to sightsee and terrorize the locals. That would explain the odd way dirt settled on her face, almost like the Stranger grabbed herself a fistful of it and smeared it on, a bad attempt at blending in. 

Amelia scowled, shifting her focus back to the counters. They’d be immaculate if they weren’t made from the cheapest material Spacer’s Choice had to offer, forever sporting that grunge look. But with dwindling customers and a need to stay busy, she wiped them over for what had to be the tenth time that day, just to make sure not a speck of dirt found its way to them. “I sure hope you’re not talking to me, since I told you the last time you were in here that I’m not interested in what you have to say.” 

“That’s not good customer service,” the Stranger said, but when Amelia lifted her gaze, she caught the hint of a smile curling the Stranger’s lips. “Careful now, or I just might have to fill out one of those surveys I keep hearing about.” 

Suppressing a groan, Amelia paused in her cleaning, tossing the rag in a bucket under the bar, then leaned forward, deadpanning, “You’ve tried the best, now try the rest. Spacer’s Choice.” One of the few other customers glanced in her direction at the motto recital before turning his attention back to peeling the label off his bottle of Zero Gee, making a mess to be swept up later after he left.

“I’ll take an Algae Lager if you got any left,” the Stranger responded, that unsettling gaze still glued to Amelia. When Amelia set the bottle down a little too hard, her aggravation starting to poke through her customer service facade, the Stranger traded a sharp smile before taking a sip. Almost immediately, deep red exploded like fireworks under her skin, her cheeks and neck darkening. That happened anytime the Stranger drank alcohol, Amelia noticed. The first time startled her, but now Amelia simply turned her back to find a new bucket and the sanitizer for the mop.

The Stranger continued on. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about the rumor?” Acting as though she dangled a juicy piece of saltuna in front of Amelia like she was some kind of damned sprat. 

“Only idle folk got time for spreading rumors. Me, I want no part in that.” 

“It concerns you.” 

Amelia almost faltered, almost let the muscles in her face twitch and give away her sudden interest. Rumor, about her? While not the most-liked person in Edgewater, being the only bartender in the town came with respect rather than risk a future cut off, not that Spacer’s Choice allowed such a thing as long as bit-cartridges kept coming. “If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna keep doing my job and pay that gossip no mind. I’m perfectly content not knowing the details of that particular rumor.”

When Amelia faced her once again, the Stranger’s good humor twisted into something dark, almost pleading. “You’ll want to know this one.” Those violet eyes slid to where the other customers grouped themselves together toward the opposite end of the bar, sharing in Amelia’s wariness of the woman. From the silence and the intense way they stared into their drinks, Amelia knew they eavesdropped on this weird, awkward conversation. The Stranger picked up on this too, rising off the bar stool. “Need any help cleaning up back there?”

The thought of the Stranger in a more private setting twisted Amelia’s stomach. “That’s kind of you to offer, but I’ll have to pass.” The other woman unsettled her, those damn eyes staring again. 

Amelia went about her business, the Stranger plopping back onto her stool to nurse her drink. Like an unscratched itch, that gaze followed her as she rounded up that bucket finally and opened a fresh bottle of sanitizer. The mop lived in the storage closet by the bathrooms, and when Amelia went to step back there, she paused a breath to make sure the Stranger didn’t try to follow her anyway. 

But she never came back, and Amelia did her best to clean the nasty bathroom floors, always too wet for her liking, stuck in a permanent state of soggy. The clinical smell of the chemicals made her cough, and she wished, not for the first time, that Spacer's Choice found it in their budget to ventilate the rooms or buy her a damned mask. 

When she finished, the bathrooms not as bad, in an almost decent condition from when she went in, and the supplies stored away back in the closet, she resurfaced in the bar. 

Only the Stranger sat there. 

All the other patrons left, even the label-picker, but the cleanliness of his area left some conclusions that Amelia wasn't too fond about entertaining. The Stranger grew a rough reputation around herself. And if Amelia wouldn't go somewhere private to discuss this matter, the Stranger might take it upon herself to clear out the bar and make it into that private place she wanted. 

"You're bad for business," Amelia said, not bothering to hide the menace in her voice. 

"I just want to talk." The Stranger grinned, or tried to, but the sight of it rippled goosebumps over Amelia's arms and a particularly nasty shiver up her spine. 

"Why are you concerning yourself over some rumor? You're not living here in these walls." Amelia crossed her arms over her chest, giving up the appearance of working. Spacer's Choice would have her head if they found out, and they always managed to find out -- doubly so that she spoke to a customer like this. But if the Stranger kept this up, there wouldn't be any more customers, the good kind that drank more than a single drink and didn't kick out the others. 

"I care what happens to you, Amelia." The Stranger twisted one of the curls of bright green hair around her finger, her other hand drumming against the neck of the bottle. "I don't like what I'm seeing here in Edgewater, and you,  _ Miss Science _ , are one of those great representations of everything that is so  _ wrong _ with this place."

Amelia's cheeks scorched at the mock in a nickname. She mistakenly overshared -- those damn eyes again, something about them, and Amelia admitted a secret she shared with no one before, kept talking, and this stranger listened and judged her, tried to press her into pursuing a wild fancy she long since gave up. "You don't know this life, Stranger. You come in and you judge us, but Spacer's Choice has been providing for us here for years. And I'd appreciate that you never call me that name again."

"Amelia," the Stranger said, almost pleading. "They're replacing you."

Ice formed in Amelia's veins as she froze there behind the bar. Replacing … her? Why? Yes, business wasn't as good as it could've been, but the plague drove down numbers, and the deserters and, oh fuck. But the Stranger could've been lying. How would she even have heard something like this? "Bullshit," she spat. 

The Stranger shook her head, her lips pinched together in a frown. "Afraid not. Julius Moreau told me, and Parvati Holcomb confirmed it. They're bringing in an automech."

Fucking Julius. He never did like her … but Parvati? Parvati would know, working as close to Reed as she did. And she was an honest sort, just like her Pa.  _ Fuck _ . This was really happening then. They were rendering her obsolete. What a fucking nightmare. Where would they repurpose her to, the cannery? She'd lucked out with this job, avoiding the plague by hiding out in her bar, and the cannery itself, she'd be on the factory line, canning away in monotony until she too caught the plague and passed. 

The Stranger stared at her with those big eyes like she waited for a response. What did she expect Amelia to say? What could she even say?  _ Thanks for letting me know _ ? Amelia shook off the cold and straightened her back, uncrossing her arms to grab herself a long-overdue Zero Gee. 

Careful with each word, she said, "If that's what they aim to do, then that's what they'll do. No use worrying about it." The drink hit her lips, bottle cool, and Spacer's Choice would absolutely have something to say about drinking on the job, but she planned to close early tonight. She deserved it, and it wasn't like it changed anything. 

"That's it?" The Stranger fell back into her chair. "You should be angry! Something!" 

Amelia shrugged after another swig of the brew. "That's life in Edgewater."

"But it doesn't have to be."

At this, Amelia let out a bark of laughter. "I'm not going to desert. I still have a job, and after this, I get another job. It's how things are done."

"Doesn't make it right." The Stranger drained her bottle, then rose to throw it away. Lingering by the trashcan and the door, she said, "What if you came with me, once I get my ship in the air? I could use a crew." 

The bottle ended up paused halfway to Amelia's lips as she stared at the Stranger. Leave Edgewater? And with this person? Was this a serious offer, or did the other woman simply mess with her? 

"I think you need to walk out that door, for good this time. I appreciate you letting me know and all so I'm not caught unaware, but I need you to go and not come back again." When Amelia set her bottle on the counter, it hit loudly like firm punctuation to the end of her sentence. 

The Stranger nodded, but still those violet eyes sparkled. "Just think it over. You deserve better than life here, Amelia. All of you do, but you especially."

"I don't need you trying to save me." Amelia crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the Stranger until the other woman turned and left through the front door. The door slammed shut like the last word in an argument. 


End file.
